


A Long Road Ahead

by Cabbagiez



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Abusive Filbrick Pines, Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Stan Pines, Diners, Drinking & Talking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Filbrick Pines Is A Jerk, Ford Pines Needs a Hug, Ford Pines is a Good Brother, Gay Ford Pines, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Jewish Pines Family, Just triangles, Multi, Mystery Trio, Nightmares, Not the love kind - Freeform, POV Alternating, Promises, Slow Burn, Stan Pines is a Good Brother, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character, Young Ford Pines, Young Stan Pines, triangles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23377318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cabbagiez/pseuds/Cabbagiez
Summary: It was a spur of the moment decision. Watching his father kick his twin out, the one who was there for him all this time, for just one mistake... It made Ford's blood boil.On impulse, Ford goes with Stan after the science fair, sacrificing his future and his family's good graces for his brother. The road ahead will be tough, but they won't go it alone.
Relationships: Fiddleford H. McGucket & Stan Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket/Ford Pines, Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Stan Pines/Original Female Character(s), Stan Pines/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 101





	1. Start The Car!

It was a spur of the moment decision. Watching his father kick his twin out, the one who was there for him _all this time,_ for just one mistake... It made Ford's blood boil. And that's how he ended up in the passenger's seat of his brother's car, nursing a bloody nose and a shiner, both of them cursing out Filbrick as loud as they dared to. He didn't know where they were going, but the important thing is that they were going _together._ “This was a bad idea,” he mumbled through a laugh, watching Stan slam the horn of his cheap car.

“A worse one woulda been leaving you there,” Stan replied, smiling at Ford. “How’s the nose?”

“Blood’s stopping… What are we going to do, Stanley? We can’t go back. And I’ll never go to college…”

“Is the original plan still on the table?” Stan asked with a grin. 

“If we can get there. But I think we need to get out of this town. You know how fast word spreads, Stanley.”

“Don’t worry bout it, Poindexter. We’ll get back to that dream, yeah?”

Ford paused, staring at the blood on his fingers. Blood drawn by his own father. He clenched his hand into a fist. “Yeah. We’ll get back there. Book it, Stanley.” 

“Gladly, Stanford!” Stan put the pedal to the metal, speeding out of Glass Shard Beach. 

* * *

They drove for a long while until a motel came on the horizon, Stan nudging Ford awake gently. “Let’s crash here, you got cash on you, right?”

“Right,” Ford said groggily as Stan pulled in, getting out. “How bad do I look?”

“Not gonna lie, pretty bad,” Stan replied, laughing. “It’s no big deal, sixer, let’s just get ourselves a room.” The pair entered the motel, Ford fishing just enough money to pay for one room from his pockets and slapping it down. “Thanks, toots,” Stan said to the woman at the counter as they went to find it, earning a light punch to the arm. “Ow! What was that for, Poindexter?”

“We may be drifters, but we don’t have to be disrespectful drifters,” Ford replied. There was no malice in his voice, just exhaustion and good humor. Stan shrugged and laughed, wrapping his arm around his brother. 

“I got enough money for shitty take out pizza and a beer or two, what do ya say?”

“I say that sounds… Pretty good.” He unlocked the door, letting Stan in first. Ford saved his commentary about their accommodations, just falling against the bed. ”I’m wiped out,” he murmured.

“Me too, Sixer. Let’s take a long nap, then I’ll get the food, got it?”

“Hmm… Alright.” Ford was asleep before the last syllable hit his tongue. 

* * *

When he woke up, there was an open box of pizza and a beer can waiting for him, Stan seated on the ground next to them. “What kind did you get?” Ford asked quietly as he sat beside him, cracking open the beer and taking a sip.

“Cheese. It’s probably not kosher either way but, just eating is good enough, right?” Stan asked, laughing.

“Right. In any case it’s not like what we were eating back home was, either,” Ford replied, grabbing a slice and taking a bite. The grease was still hot, stinging his tongue for a few seconds before the cheese and sauce hit him. Even though it was from the cheapest place in the area, likely anyway, Ford quickly decided it was the best slice he’d ever had.

“Fair point!” He laughed again, but it quickly stilled. “Can we quit calling it home, Sixer?” He asked softly, turning Ford’s face so he could make eye contact. “We ain’t welcome back. We ain’t even gonna make half of what you could’ve, and I don’t even know what you did to Pa but he wasn’t happy. Let’s face the facts. Glass Shard Beach is nothing but a rundown dead end town that we’re getting the hell away from, and that pawn shop was _not_ our home.” Stan choked up, wiping his eyes with a grease-stained paper napkin. Ford took another long sip from his drink, before looking up again.

“It’s not home anymore, you’re right,” he agreed. “God… if me swinging at him wasn’t enough for him to kick me out, then what I told our father certainly was.”

Stan froze. “...What’d you tell him, IQ?” He asked. Ford looked away again, his breath hitching. “Stanford? What’d you tell him?” 

His eyes went misty. “I told him… I said…” he stuttered, cringing. “I’m gay, Stanley.”

“You are?” Stan asked quietly, reaching to hold his brother’s hand.

“I am- I said to him, ‘Here’s a reason to get mad, you bastard. One son’s a failure, the other’s a queer.’ ...Sorry for calling you a failure. But. Ma gasped, and Pa cursed at me. And hit me. Twice.” Ford laughed weakly, a quiet sob breaking through as Stan pulled him into a hug.

“That’s why you wanted to get outta there so fast,” Stan murmured, looking down at his twin.

“Dad never called me a freak of nature before,” Ford said into Stan’s chest, through tears, “but he did then. He screamed at me, couldn’t you hear him?”

“Figured he was just pissed you were leaving with me,” Stan replied, patting his brother’s head. “Now I’m really glad we got kicked out, y’know why?”

“Why?” Was all Ford could choke out, his eyes squeezed shut as he kept crying quietly.

“Cuz this means you’ll never have to deal with his bullshit again,” was Stan’s simple, quiet response. “And even if you’ll deal with other bullshit, Sixer, I’ll be with you. Every step. Ok?”

“Okay,” Ford murmured.

“High-six?” Stan held up his hand, waiting patiently for when Ford was calm enough.

“High-six,” he replied, slapping Stan’s hand and smiling. Maybe this would work out.


	2. Midnight Reminiscing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan thinks about everything that's happened in the moonlight, and the twins decide on their next move.

It was a long night for Stanley Pines. He knew it would be a struggle to get to sleep, after everything that happened, but he didn’t know it would be this hard. He rolled over in his cheap motel bed, watching Ford in the one next to him. Even with the weight of the world on his shoulders, Ford slept like an angel. A day ago, that would’ve made Stan jealous. Now he was just glad his brother wouldn’t be suffering through the night. He stumbled to his feet, stepping out onto the outdoor walkway. Stan pulled something he had swiped from his pockets, taking out a little stick of death that Ford would hate to see him smoke. He lit it, taking a drag and coughing. “Shit-“ he breathed, quietly putting it out. Stan looked up, staring into the sky.

“Y’know… The stars look pretty great. Too bad it’s such a bad time,” Stan said to himself. “Wish I knew how to fix this.” He stood in silence for a few more minutes. “Maybe if I had told him the night before?” He questioned into the darkness.

A caw echoed from somewhere in the forests.

“You’re right,” Stan replied to the unseen bird. “That woulda ended worse… not cuz Ford’d be going away but because I would’ve been stuck. Even if Ford got in. I’m just a throwaway that got thrown away.” He stretched, going down the structure that could only loosely be called “steps.” 

“Gonna go get my brother his favorite snack,” Stan said to the rabbit he saw staring at him. Obviously the rabbit said nothing, but he seemed to take it as a personal offense. “What do you mean, why?! Because he’s my brother, and he DESERVES. SOMETHING. NICE!” He yelled, watching it run away as he hit the hood of his car. He sighed quietly and got in the car, turning up the radio because it reminded him of Ford. 

* * *

Driving to the convenience store was pretty easy, but navigating the social interaction was harder. The cashier was watching him like a hawk, intent on catching him doing some sort of shady activity. _I mean, I was gonna shoplift, but it’s still rude to stare!_ He thought. Finally he put two Pitts, a bag of jelly beans, and a bag of toffee peanuts on the counter.

“That’ll be three bucks,” the cashier droned sleepily, Stan rifling through his pockets and passing over the money, to his relief. “Have a nice night, sir…” they said, but he was already gone. 

* * *

He arrived back to the motel in record time, walking into their room and sitting back on his bed. Stan sighed, placing the jelly beans on their nightstand and opening his toffee peanuts. “These nearly fucked everything up…” he mumbled to himself, staring at the bag. “Whatever. Everything’s fine now anyway. It’s gonna be, anyway.” He ate a few, falling back onto the bed. This was going to be a long, difficult experience. Oh well. It was much easier for him to sleep, after that long drive…

The next morning, it was Stan’s turn to be shaken awake. “Wha- what’s up, Poindexter?”

“Morning, sleeping beauty. When did you get these?” Ford asked, gesturing to the Pitt bottles and the jellybeans. He had already opened his bottle and the bag, and was snacking while he spoke.

“Last night, while I couldn’t sleep,” Stan replied. “That a problem?” He asked.

“No- not at all,” Ford replied. He smiled warmly at his twin, handing over a warm mug of cheap coffee. “It was a welcome surprise.” There were a few more seconds of silence, before Ford continued, “Honestly, Stanley, I think I may have had a nightmare.” He sat beside Stan, scratching his neck. 

“Really? What about?” He asked, sipping the coffee like it was the best cup in the world. 

“I’m not sure… there were eyes, in the trees. And all I could hear was someone laughing. But when I looked down, my hands had five fingers.”

“Weird,” Stan said. He didn’t mention that he had a nightmare himself, that he had seen prison bars surrounding him and blood on six-fingered hands. He didn’t want to scare him so soon. “Hey sixer, wanna head to a diner or something?”

“Do we have enough money for it?” Ford replied, stretching. He shoveled a few more jellybeans into his mouth. 

“Probably not,” Stan admitted, rubbing his neck. “Ever dined and dashed?” 

“Stanley, are you kidding? We can’t dine and dash!”

“Sure we can, Poindexter. Just gotta sit close to the exit, and slip out when they ain’t looking!”

“And if we get caught, Stanley?”

“Then we drive as fast as we can.” Stan gave his brother a warm grin, slapping him on the back. “It’s no big deal!”

“No big- no big deal?” Ford looked like he was going to explode, in multiple meanings of the term. “It’s a crime, Stanley!”

“And we’re _criminals,_ Stanford,” Stan said. Ford cringed, shoving him. “Hey-!”

“We- we aren’t criminals, Stanley. We’re just… stuck,” Ford said. He scratched his neck. “...I’m sorry for pushing you.”

Stan stood in silence for a few seconds. “It’s alright, Sixer,” he said with a little laugh and smile, hiding his nerves. “We’re stressed to high hell. Let’s just give it a rest, and hit the road?”

More silence, this time from Ford. “You’re right, Stanley. Where are we driving to today?”

“Wherever you want,” he said. “We got the whole world at our disposal!” 

“Well. The whole world we can reach in your Stanmobile,” Ford replied, laughing and putting his arm around Stan. “Hm… How about the Big Apple?”

“I like your style, Sixer! New York City, watch out! Pines, Pines, Pines!”

“PINES, PINES, PINES!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying this!


	3. Brand New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the twins encounter some car trouble, they make new friends and discover things about themselves.

On the road they went. Stan stared intently ahead at the road as Ford attempted to sift through their maps. “How is it we live in New Jersey but have no map for the route to New York City?” Ford asked. It really was ridiculous. He could’ve sworn he had one, himself, but he must have left it back in the pawn shop. 

“Don’t ask me,” Stan mumbled, popping a few more toffee peanuts in his mouth. “We’ll find our way, don’t worry too hard!”

Ford scoffed at the notion. “You know my worrying is an inevitability,” he replied, looking out on the road. 

“Well quit it,” Stan said, laughing and ruffling his twin’s hair.

“Gah- hands on the wheel, Stanley!” Ford yelped. They were rolling beneath a bridge, in an action Ford was positive wasn’t Stan’s intention.

“Relax! There’s literally nothing that could go wrong here, sixer, we’re completely safe!” 

**_THUNK!_ **

The car completely stopped. “Okay. Maybe we aren’t _completely_ but-“ Stan killed the engine, getting out before Ford could stop him. He popped the hood, oblivious to the shapes in the edges of the pair’s vision. 

“Stanley,” Ford said quietly, noticing one of the people hidden in the darkness creeping closer. He obviously didn’t notice, too engrossed in his repair work. “ _Stanley!_ ” He hissed. The person was getting closer- if Stan wasn’t careful-

“Why, I reckon this is a quick fix,” they said, finally bringing Stan’s attention.

“GAH- Watch it! Who the hell are you?” Stan demanded, moving to grab the more scrawny teen by the shirt collar. 

“I-“ The teen squeaked, his southern drawl coming out more. _Cute_ , was the first thought Ford had, but he pushed that back as far as he could. “My name, mister, is Fiddleford H. McGucket. But you can call me Fiddleford,” he said. Stan let go of his shirt, dusting his hands off. 

“Got it… Fiddleford. Name’s Stan, Stan Pines. My brother Ford’s in the car,” he replied. Ford got out, waving nervously. He made no attempt to shake the other’s hand. Wasn’t in the mood to hear someone scream. 

“Well, what’re the chances?” Fiddleford asked rhetorically, “y’all coming here’s rather fortu-fortu-“

“...Fortunate?” Stan asked.

“Gimme a moment- fortuitous,” Fiddleford replied. “The others and I were just about to have our lunch.” He spat something out before turning to the wall. Someone lit a flashlight, illuminating a group of two, maybe three, teenagers. All on the older end, but all definitely not old enough to be on their own.

“Do… you all live here?” Ford asked, as their new friend guided the brothers to a dry patch of land. 

“Sure do! All of us got kicked out or just left. Y’see, we’re all-“

“Queer?” Stan asked, accepting the chunks of meat and cheese that definitely came from a stolen deli tray. Ford didn’t accept the food, until Stan just put it in his hands. 

“Precisely,” Fiddleford replied, smiling. “So we all kinda just found our way here, each and every one of us. What about you two?” 

The twins made eye contact. Ford gulped. “Well… our father was originally only going to disown Stanley,” he began, wringing his hands.

“Cuz I fucked something up for Stanford on accident,” Stan added. 

“But I just got so angry at that… that I told him.” Ford shrunk back a bit, but the expressions on the others’ faces told him they knew. Not to mention the black eye and bruised nose. The others sat in silence, before erupting into cheers. “Why are you cheering?”

“By golly, that’s the best possible story you could've told for it,” Fiddleford said, grinning.

“You stood up to your dad!” A boy with a triangle charm around his wrist said. 

“And you have a battle scar to prove it,” a girl with a very lovely deep voice added. She pointed to Ford’s cheek, where the rings on Filbrick’s fist had cut him up. 

“I suppose I do,” Ford said quietly, tracing his cuts. A few blinks later and the pair were beside his brother. Oh boy.

“Oh boy,” Stan half-squeaked out. “Ford, help, I’m discovering something about myself.”

“Got another one, fellers!” Fiddleford joked, laughing. “No but seriously, you alright?”

“Think I am,” Stan said. He looked at the pair. “Uhh… do you two got names?” 

“We’re playing around with a few,” the boy replied, tracing his finger on the ground. “Right now, I’m thinking Harrison.”

“Harrison, eh?” Stan replied, grinning. Great, he’s already turning on the Pines charm. “That’s a great name, kid. What about you?” He asked the girl.

“Lydia,” she said. Stan would have said something, but Ford was making fake gagging noises. 

“What is it, sixer?”

“Must you flirt right now?”

“I’m discovering things, sixer,” Stan replied. 

“Can you discover this later? And I thought you already knew?”

“I definitely didn’t,” Stan admitted with a laugh. 

Ford paused and nodded, smiling at him. He was proud of Stan, for this and other reasons. He knew how hard it was for him to really think about this sort of thing, not to mention being open about it amongst new people. Ford would’ve carried on with this train of thought, but he caught sight of Fiddleford preparing to fix the car, and all other thoughts vanished. _Oh boy._ “Do you need some help, Fiddleford?”

“I oughta be able to do this myself, but if one of you two wants-“

“I’ll help,” Stan said, getting up. “I know my car pretty well.” He opened the passenger door first, grabbing his duffel bag- the one both twins had forgotten about. “I got some tools in here, I think…” A few seconds of shuffling through it showed no results. “Damn it. Oh well!” He went to Fiddleford’s side, popping the hood. Ford looked away.

“You and your brother are fighters,” Harrison observed. He was tracing around Ford’s fingers. “Even when the eyes are on you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

He chuckled and tapped his lips. Not telling. Lydia laughed.

“Since he found that bracelet, he’s been talking a lot more,” she said. 

“He didn’t used to?”

“I don’t like to,” Harrison replied. “People don’t like what I have to say.”

“I’ve certainly been there,” Ford said. “I became the quiet brother rather quickly.”

“Survival,” was Harrison’s rather cryptic response. He murmured something as well, but Ford couldn’t make it out and didn’t want to pry. A touch to his hand made him jump.

“Oh- I’m sorry,” Lydia said. “I just wanted to look.”

“Go ahead.” Ford placed his hand, palm-up, in hers. She traced the lines of his palm, never once looking at his sixth finger. A small chuckle escaped her lips, and she took out a piece of chalk. 

“Mind if I draw on your hand?”

“Not at all.” He shut his eyes, letting himself relax as Lydia began to draw. He felt someone slip something onto his other extra finger, but didn’t mention it. Ford needed more rest. But as he drifted off, he thought he saw eyes again. Staring at him. He mentally counted his fingers. Five. Where was-

“Stanford?” 

“Wha-“ Stan’s worried voice woke him up. “What is it, Stanley?”

“You passed out for a sec,” Stan replied, “Scared me.”

“Sorry, Stanley… I’m unsure what happened,” Ford replied as he blinked, his vision clearing slowly. Fiddleford passed him a bottle of water, which he accepted gratefully. Then he looked at what was on his finger. A ring- nice, but not too nice. “Where’d this come from?”

“I thought you’d like it,” Harrison murmured from a few feet away.

“Well… thank you! I do, very much.”

“Look at your palm,” Lydia said excitedly, smiling at him. He obliged after a few more seconds, soon after giving the girl an admirative look. She had drawn an intricate pattern of eyes and triangles across his whole palm, symbols written with surprising precision along every finger but his sixth. 

“This is beautiful,” he murmured. “Why didn’t you draw on my-?”

“I felt like I shouldn’t,” she said, shrugging. “That’s okay, right?”

“Of course it’s okay,” Ford replied, smiling comfortingly. “You all have been… So kind. Is there any way we could repay you?”

“No sir,” Fiddleford insisted. “Cept uh… I was thinking, where are y’all headed?”

“The plan was the Big Apple, but we can go anywhere,” Stan replied, smiling. “Why? You wanna come with?”

“I… Well, yes,” Fiddleford replied, “you see- there’s a town I’ve heard of, down in Oregon. I think it’d be good to give it a look.”

“Sure, we can drive to Oregon, soon as we get the car fixed up,” Stan said, interrupting what was going to be a stammering-filled joyful acceptance from his brother. “What about you two?”

“We’ll meet again,” Harrison replied quietly. “Tomorrow you will fix the car. And then we’ll meet again.” 

“Uhh…”

“That’s a ‘We’re fine on our own, Stan, thanks,’ in his own way,” Lydia said, laughing. “Now, since you three are going to leave tomorrow, what say we celebrate tonight?” She hopped up, grabbing six bottles of Pitt from a secluded portion of the bridge. Happily she passed them out, helping Harrison when he couldn’t get his open. Strangely though, she left the sixth near the sleeping area. “To new beginnings!” Lydia declared.

“To new beginnings!” The group called out, clinking bottles and drinking to their health. Only Ford was watching the sixth. Once he was sure the rest of them were distracted with Stan’s tale of them encountering the Jersey Devil, he turned to Lydia.

“Why did you leave the sixth over there?” He asked.

“It’s tradition. Harrison started it. We always make one extra portion, pour one extra glass- for good luck. You didn’t notice during lunch?”

“I was… Ahem, distracted,” Ford replied, scratching his neck and not-so-subtly gesturing to Fiddleford. 

“Ah, of course. He’s a sweetheart.” She paused. “If you hurt him, I’ll hurt you.”

“Wha-“

“Kidding! Kind of. He helped me and Harrison, I care about him a lot.”

“Understandable,” Ford replied, sipping his drink. “How did he get down here? He seems like a southern boy to me.”

“Similar story to you, but he should be the one to tell it.” Lydia sipped her drink. “I don’t know how Harrison got here… but we found each other before we found Fiddleford.” Another, longer pause. “The way he acts sometimes… I wonder what happened before we met.”

“Sometimes it’s best not to know,” Ford replied.

“I know. But I’m still curious.” She took another long swig. “But that’s boring talk! The night’s here, the moon’s out- what a time to be alive, right?”

“Right,” Ford replied. He smiled as she finished her drink, going to sit beside Harrison. Briefly, Ford looked up to see the moon, full and high in the sky. Strangely, however, when he looked back down, he saw something. The sixth bottle was empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter I've written for something in a while and I hope y'all enjoyed it!


	4. On The Road Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Stanmobile gets fixed up, and the trio get on the road again!

The next morning, Stan was the first one awake. He stared at the top of the bridge above them, sighing. Stan had slept on top of the car, letting Ford sleep inside. It was the least he could do. The teen’s hands were shaking as he got off the car, grabbing his duffel bag and searching through it for some food. Finding none, he slumped onto the floor. The other teens were asleep in a pile, Fiddleford a little ways away from them. His mind drifted back to what he had seen, he had heard… screaming. And lots of it. From his brother, he knew it. It was one of the worst nightmares he’d had in a while. And Stan would have let it sit in his mind a little while longer if someone hadn’t spoken up.

“Good morning, Stanley,” Ford said as he opened the door beside him. 

“Gah- scared the shit outta me, Stanford!” Stan jumped, laughing. “How’d you sleep?”

“I slept alright,” Ford replied. “I didn’t hear anything at least.”

“That’s good,” Stan said. “Hey, did you notice anything last night? Anything weird?”

Ford’s face contorted. 

“You did, didn’t you? What was it?”

“That sixth bottle of Pitt, the one they left out for good luck. When I looked at it at the end of the night, it…”

“Good morning!” A voice piped up from the pile. Lydia sat up with a smile. The twins made eye contact. They’d speak later.

“Good morning Lydia,” Ford said. When he gave her a wave, Stan caught a glimpse of his palm. Weren’t all of those eyes open before? And Stan swore the ring on his other hand was blue before. He shook his head, deciding to ignore it when he spotted Fiddleford lighting up a fire.

“I reckon we’re gonna fix up the car today, but we should eat first,” Fiddleford said, speaking mostly to Ford. Ford smiled and nodded, sitting next to the fire and watching the other.

“Good plan,” Stan said. Harrison had sat up abruptly, and for a moment Stan swore he saw the other’s eyes change. “What are you gonna make, Specs?” He asked.

“I’m making a quick fry of brown meat and hamburger helper Harrison snatched,” Fiddleford replied, dumping a can of brown meat into a pan he held above the fire. 

“Sounds delicious,” Stan said, smiling at him. He watched the whole group carefully. For a moment, he couldn’t find Harrison, but before he could mention it the boy tapped his shoulder.

“Did you sleep poorly?” He asked quietly, leaning close to Stan. A shudder ran through him, though he wasn’t sure why.

“Nah, I slept alright. What about you?”

Harrison wrapped an arm around Stan. “I slept well. He helped,” he said. Stan was very acutely aware of the way the arm felt. He glanced at Harrison’s wrist, the one not around him. No bracelet. The other one didn’t have one either.

“Who’s he?” He asked, and felt the boy tense. “You ok, Harrison?” Stan looked at him, at his eyes. Something was off, but…

“I’m ok. Stan. You need to promise me something.”

“That’s a tall order considering we just met.”

“Try to do it anyway. Promise that you won’t leave your brother behind.”

“What- why the hell would I?” Stan asked, laughing. Harrison didn’t smile. It honestly creeped him out a little. “I- okay, I promise, okay? I won’t leave Ford behind.” 

He looked relieved, cracking a slight smile. “Good.” That was all Harrison said before he pulled away, helping Fiddleford dish up the food. Again, six portions, and again the sixth went where the bottle had the night before. Both twins noticed now. 

“Once we finish eating, we’ll restart work on the car?” Ford asked, the urgency in his voice poorly hidden.

“Yep!” Fiddleford replied, smiling and taking a bite of his food. “And before the night is through, you, me, and Stan’ll be on the road to Oregon!” 

“Just think,” Stan said as he started to eat, “it’ll just be us and the open road! Like one of those teen rebellion movies, y’know the ones?”

“Unfortunately, I don’t. Back where I’m from we didn’t have any movies,” Fiddleford replied.

“You didn’t?” Stan asked. He would’ve made some comment about Fiddleford living under a rock, but Harrison’s hand on his leg briefly distracted him.

“Nope, and if we did we couldn’t afford them anyway.”

“That’s why sixer and I used to just sneak in! They don’t check if you got a ticket if they don’t see you going in.”

“He convinced me,” Ford said, chuckling. “But, it was worthwhile.”

“Damn right it was!” Stan elbowed Ford, pointing to the food. “Eat, Poindexter!”

“Ah- right, I forgot,” he replied sheepishly, taking a bite. Both Lydia and Stan laughed. They knew, very clearly. But, the two in question didn’t, even as they watched each other with more than just scientific interest. 

“Young love,” Stan quipped to Lydia, laughing.

“Yep. They can’t even hear us right now, I’d bet. If you’re done eating, we can keep working on the car while the lovebirds stare at each other?” She replied, helping Stan up. 

“Sounds like a plan,” he replied, grinning brightly at her and popping the hood. Together, the pair worked into the afternoon, joined by Fiddleford in the evening. By sunset, they were finally done. 

“Jesus, that took a while,” Stan said. “But it’s worth it!”

“Indeed it is, Stanley,” Ford replied, smiling at his brother. “Shall we leave tonight?” He asked the other two.

“Sure! I’ve got enough cash in the old tin can for a room and some food, if y’all don’t mind,” Fiddleford said. Stan was about to ask about the strange metaphor, but the other soon produced an actual tin can and put it in the backseat.

“...Guess that’s settled?” Stan said, laughing. He turned to look at Lydia and Harrison, scratching his neck. “It’s weird, we just met, and now this is goodbye…”

“It’s not a goodbye,” Lydia insisted as she hugged the three one by one.

“It’s a ‘see you soon,’ Stan,” Harrison said, doing the same but holding him for longer than he needed to. “Don’t forget your promise.”

“Long as you don’t forget me!” Stan replied, laughing as the boy pulled away. The three piled into their car, yelling goodbyes as Stan started it up and pulled out of the bridge. 

* * *

Down the road he glanced back at Fiddleford. He was strumming a tune on his banjo, laying across the backseat like he owned it. Ford was staring too. Stan chuckled, then looked at the front. “Hey, a diner’s coming up! How’s about we stop in and get some food?” He asked the two. 

“That sounds lovely!” Fiddleford piped up from the back. “I’m starved!”

“We haven’t eaten since breakfast, it would be wise,” Ford said. Stan nodded, pulling into the parking lot. The three climbed out, walking into the diner in high spirits. Owing to the time, they were seated quickly- Stan on one side of the booth, the lovebirds on the other.

“How about pancakes to share?” Stan asked. The pair paused, then nodded.

“Sounds alright to me! Now uh, Stan, will you be driving all night?”

“Planning on it till we find a motel,” Stan replied.

“That may not be a good idea, Stanley… This stretch of road seems particularly barren. We may not find one for days,” Ford replied. Stan knew his twin was right, like usual, but he couldn’t ask the other two to drive… He got Ford in this mess, and he told Fiddleford he could come. The least he could do is drive them both. 

“I’ll take over after we’re done here,” Fiddleford said. “I’ll get a coffee now so I can stay up.”

“You sure?” Stan asked.

“Positive. Can’t stop me!”

“Stanley, since you’ve been staying up the most, would you like the backseat so you can sleep the best?” Ford asked. Damn him.

“...Yeah, sure, since you’re offering. But tomorrow you get it, got it?”

“Alright,” Ford said with a smile, and that was that. The waitress showed up and took their orders, and in what felt like no time at all they were scarfing down pancakes.

“I always felt like diner food was the best kind,” Stan said through a mouthful, laughing when Ford made an exaggerated face of disgust. 

“I’ll agree with you there,” Fiddleford replied, taking a sip of his coffee. “Makes me feel all warm and nos- nos- gimme a second -nostalgic.”

“The quality of the food never matters,” Ford observed, “because my brother and I have eaten at some truly horrible diners. But the feeling- that’s universal. There’s no comfort in the world quite like a small American diner.”

“You can say that again!” Stan said.

“There’s no comfort in the-“

“Not  _ actually _ .” He laughed, patting his brother on the shoulder. “Say, Specs, do you even know where this place you wanna go is?”

“It’s not on any map,” Fiddleford admitted. “But I  _ swear _ I know where to go. We’ll recognize it. We have to.”

“That’s cryptic as hell, y’know that?”

“Maybe I’ve spent a bit too much time with Harrison,” he said, laughing. 

“Maybe,” Ford replied. “But could we at least get a name?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell you. The place we’re headed to is called Gravity Falls,” Fiddleford said. “It’s a small town in Oregon.”

“Well, that’s something. Next rest stop, we ask for directions, yeah?”

“They’ll probably be useless until we actually reach Oregon,” Ford observed. Stan shrugged, lounging back.

“Maybe we’ll find out about it before we get there this way,” Stan said, “Plus, it can’t hurt to try, right?”

“I suppose you’re right.” Ford took the last bite of pancake. “In any case, we should pay and get going.” The group pooled their money, paying the bill and getting out. 

Back in the car, as Stan was trying to get comfortable, he felt something in his pocket. He pulled it out, looking it over. In the dim light, it was difficult to tell, however he knew what it was as he ran his thumb along it. Stan chuckled at the triangle pendent on the bracelet, and put it around his wrist.  _ Why not? Couldn’t hurt. _ He smiled as the car started up, and the faint music from the radio combined with his brother’s talking lulled him to sleep.


	5. Getting Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fiddleford gives the twins some very good news, and they come to an important agreement.

Ford had fallen asleep rather quickly himself, Fiddleford’s soft crooning to the rare country station on the radio proving to be a wonderful lullaby. It was only when he felt Fiddleford’s hand on his shoulder did he break into consciousness. “Hm?” He murmured, looking over at the other with a warm smile.

“Morning, sunshine,” Fiddleford said with a laugh. “I got us a map in the night. Turns out that if we keep on driving the way we have been, we can get there by tomorrow or the next day!”

“ _ Tomorrow? _ ” Ford asked, mouth open.

“I didn’t believe it either! But I ran the calculations in my head- takes around 42 hours or so to get from Jersey to Oregon, and we’ve been driving since last night. We can assume we’ll be driving for almost all day today, add extra time tomorrow morning… and it should work out!” Fiddleford grinned brightly at him, his knee bouncing a mile a minute.

“That’s fantastic news!” Ford blurted, and if the man hadn’t been driving still he’d have hugged him. 

“I thought you’d want to hear it first thing,” Fiddleford replied. He put a hand on Ford’s shoulder again, rubbing his collarbone with one thumb absentmindedly, “And now we can tell your brother together once he wakes up!”

“We can tell me what together?” Stan asked from the back, voice heavy with sleep. 

“Well Stanley, we’ll be in Gravity Falls by tomorrow at the earliest!” Ford said, looking back at his twin excitedly. 

“Wait, you’re serious?” Stan asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes. 

“As I’ve ever been,” Ford replied.

“Oh hell yeah! Things are really looking up, eh, Sixer?” The teen leaned over, grinning brightly at the other two.

“Just think- we’ll have our  _ own _ home, to stay as long as we like,” Fiddleford said. 

“And we ain’t gonna leave each other behind!” Stan said triumphantly, his excitement both palpable and contagious. 

“One day the people of Gravity Falls will look at us and think- ‘There goes the Pines twins and that McGucket fella, life sure got better with them around!’ And they won’t be lying to themselves!” Ford added, pulling his arms in such a way that he was effectively shoulder hugging both of the others. They laughed, the slightest of blushes growing on Fiddleford’s smiling face. 

“That might take a while,” Stan joked, “I plan on raisin’ some hell.”

“Just as long as you don’t get us run out of town!” Fiddleford replied, patting Stan’s arm. 

“Nooo way. We’re  _ staying _ in Gravity Falls once we get there, even if they try to kick us out!” Stan declared. The three laughed again, and Stan let out a soft yawn. “Hey, could one of you turn up the radio?” He asked.

Ford obliged, looking back at his brother with a warm smile. He seemed more tired than usual, despite the full night’s rest. Ford would have brought it up, but Fiddleford’s soft singing completely derailed his train of thought. He wasn’t much of a poet- the only grade he consistently fell behind in compared to Stan had always been English -but listening to the other teen, he could truly understand the assessment of more eloquent men. In a moment of clarity he began rifling through Stan’s glovebox, finding a notepad and pen and writing, the words flowing through him like the song Fiddleford sung.

_ If he were to be the moon, I should like to be the stars. Beside him everlasting, shining in equality to his beauty. If he were to be the sun, I should like to be the trees. Standing tall at attention to bask in whatever he casted my way. If he were to take any form, any nonhuman entity to bring joy to this world, I should like to compliment him, to bring him equal joy. Above all I should like to be with him as we are, beneath the sun and moon, the stars and trees. Together. _

“Whatcha writing, sixer?” Stan asked, leaning over to read.

“Uh- nothing!”

“‘Uh, nothing?’ C’mon, lemme see! We parked a minute ago for gas, you know that, right?”

Ford looked up. Sure enough, Fiddleford was outside the car, stretching as an attendant filled their tank. “Oh. Well- let’s switch places, and then I’ll show you.” He got out of the car, going to the back as Stan stood outside for a little longer, presumably asking whether the other wanted to keep driving. Upon getting an affirmative, Stan got in shotgun, leaning over to his brother.

“So, while he’s getting us some snacks. Whatcha writing?”

“A- a poem,” Ford muttered. 

“A love poem, huh?” Stan replied, “Cute. In my experience that doesn’t work too well for girls but, who knows for guys, right?”

“He seems the poetic type,” Ford said. He smiled softly. “Is he getting jelly beans and toffee peanuts?” He asked, looking out the window into the gas station. 

“Wow, think he is. Not even a day with us, and he already knows our favorite snacks,” Stan replied. “Hey- that thing you saw the other day, what was it?”

“In hindsight it sounds silly…”

“Nothing’s silly on the road. What’d you see?”

“You know how Lydia set out a sixth bottle of Pitt?”

“Yeah? What about it?” 

“It was empty, when I looked at it next,” Ford replied, his fingers unconsciously curling into a fist, smudging the chalk drawing and nudging his ring. “I swear I felt something watching us, Stanley.”

Stan rubbed his hands together, feeling each finger individually. “Had any weird dreams?” He asked softly, in his ‘only slightly unnerved’ voice. 

“None,” Ford lied through his teeth.

“Me neither.” An understanding passed between them. No dream talk until they were off the road. And a quieter one, though no less important-  _ Don’t tell Fiddleford. _

He opened the door, tossing the twins their snacks with his signature smile. “Are we ready, boys?” Fiddleford asked, as he started the car.

“You know it, specs!” Stan replied, shooting a grin back to his twin.

“As I’ll ever be,” Ford said softly, already blinking to keep his eyes open. 

“Not too long now! Let’s go!” Fiddleford peeled out of the gas station, laughing happily. And yet again, his joyful voice lured Ford back to sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are bouta get interesting, fellas!


	6. Almost There, Ever Nearer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan and Fiddleford have a heart to heart as Gravity Falls draws near.

Stan tilted the rear view mirror back, laughing. “He’s dead asleep, specs,” he said, shooting the other a grin. 

“Huh, that he is,” Fiddleford agreed. He smiled at the sight. “He’s a good fella.”

Stan elbowed Fiddleford. “Yeah, you’d think so, huh?”

“Oh hush,” he replied, laughing. “Oh, I got what you wanted me to.” He pulled a can of chew and a pack of cigars, passing the cigars to Stan.

“You’re a lifesaver, specs. Not in the car though, alright?”

“Fine by me.”

They sat in silence for a little longer, watching the scenery change as the sun began to set. “What do ya think Gravity Falls will be like?” Stan asked.

“If I had to wager a guess, I’d say weird.” He laughed, shuffling to open a bag of pork rinds and pop them in his mouth. “Weird but, in a good way.”

“Hope so,” Stan mumbled, looking back at his brother again. “He deserves a place he can fit into.”

“How you figure we’ll get a place there?”

“Dunno, specs. I can get a job somewhere while we have a motel room, and we save up for a house?”

“I’ll help. I know a thing or two about mech-mechanical things. Could work at the car mechanic’s if they got one.”

“That’s a good idea. I ain’t got much in the smarts like you two but, I’ll work something out,” Stan said. He stared out the window, trying to push the image of his glaring father out of his mind.

“Stanley?”

“Yeah, specs?”

“Stop doing that.”

“What?”

“Stop saying you’re not much, or you ain’t smart. You’re the reason we got the car up and running! You got a lot going for you, quit pretending you don’t.” 

Stan sat there for a good minute, dumbfounded. He couldn’t even form a proper response, just shifting the bracelet up and down along his wrist. 

“I’m sorry- was that too harsh?” Fiddleford asked, after the third minute of silence. “It’s just, you clearly have a lot good about you, and it started driving me nuts how you don’t notice!”

“...No one cept sixer’s ever told me that before,” was Stan’s reply, barely a whisper. 

“What?” He asked, pulling over to look at Stan. “ _No one_ has told you you’re a good person?”

“I mean, except for Stanford,” Stan replied, scratching his neck. “Most I heard is from Ma. Talking about how much ‘personality’ I have. Pa, he called that a polite way of calling me a dumbass.”

“Well, I’m sorry Stanley, but your father was a,” Fiddleford sucked in a breath, “A low-down no-good jerk of a man who doesn’t deserve your thoughts lingering on him for a second longer than it takes for you to tell him to- and pardon my French -Get away from you and your twin, for God’s sake!” The pure fury that came from his voice shocked both of them. He pulled back out onto the road, sighing. “He kicked you two out, he doesn’t get to see his sons become something even better than whatever idiotic vision he had for you two. And he’s worse off for it! He doesn’t deserve a second longer of your time, and if he thinks he does, he can kiss my-“

“I get it, I get it,” Stan said, laughing. “He… He really wasn’t all that bad, though, specs.”

“Pardon me for not believing you for a second, Stan,” Fiddleford quipped. Their surroundings were becoming much more tree-y, a sight Stan was glad to see. 

“I’m being honest! He just wanted us to be stronger… that’s why he signed us up for boxing way back when. I thought he was trying to kill me, but-“

“One example doesn’t mean all that much,” Fiddleford insisted. “But it doesn’t matter now that you’re away from him. Just _quit_ making excuses for the ones that hurt you, they can do that plenty on their own!”

Stan reached over, adjusting Fiddleford’s glasses for him. “You have a point, specs. I’ll try my best, but no promises.”

“Well, the best is what I can hope for, huh? I’m glad you heard me out.”

“No problem. Hey, once we make it to Gravity Falls, you’re not gonna leave us behind, right?”

“Course not! I’m the one that wanted to come along, Stan. I’d be a fool to leave you two to flounder there.”

“Promise?” Stan asked. His tone was more serious than he thought it’d be, but if Fiddleford noticed he didn’t show it. 

“If you’re expecting a spit and shake, I’m afraid that can’t happen while I’m driving,” Fiddleford replied, laughing in a way that made Stan understand Ford’s interest. “But, I promise. Cross my heart.”

“Good. In a new place like this, we need all the allies we can get.”

“You know it, pal.” 

The sun setting created a beautiful backdrop for their ride, Stan’s artist heart tugging at him to draw this. But he couldn’t, he had no materials. Instead he decided to focus on the moment as a whole, sear it into his mind. Fiddleford next to him singing off-key to whatever bluegrass song was on the local station, his twin in the back snoring peacefully. And him, watching out the windows and letting everything combine into a moment worth painting. Stan’s reverie didn’t last long, as the radio static filtered into the music. For a moment, he thought he heard a voice. He couldn’t understand what it was saying.

“ _JHWWLQJ FORVHU, IHC!_

_BRX’OO EH ULJKW DW KRPH._

_FDQ’W ZDLW!_ ”

Stan’s eyes widened. On instinct he turned the radio off, letting the breath he didn’t know he was holding go. 

“Stan?” Fiddleford asked, looking at him. “Something the matter with the radio?”

“Uh- I thought the static would wake up Stanford,” he lied.

“Right. Well, I was getting sick of bluegrass anyway. Too bad you don’t have any tapes, huh?”

“I bet we’ll find some in town,” Stan replied, shrugging. “Silence isn’t so bad.”

“True. Say, you try to rest, alright? I’ll wake you and Stanford when we get there.”

Stan shrugged, shifting in his seat so he could sleep better. “You got it, Fiddleford. See ya when we get there.”

“See you when we get there!”

Eyes shut.

Blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LW DLQ'W PXFK  
> EXW LW'V KRPH
> 
> 3


End file.
